


burned out flames should never re-ignite

by CapnShellhead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 00:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: Steve keeps finding his way to Tony's quarters after the war.





	burned out flames should never re-ignite

**Author's Note:**

> I angst occasionally. 
> 
> The title comes from "Home" by Daughter

The first time is a mistake.

Well, Steve thinks of it as the “first time”. It was actually the fourth.

It was the first since the war; Steve’s team snuck in to meet with Tony’s and discuss the coming threat. Steve still doesn’t know how they went from talking about Thanos the Mad Titan to Steve pushing Tony against a wall and yanking his pants down. One moment they’re disagreeing on the best course of action, Tony’s finger thrust in his face as he yells, “You never trust anyone’s plans but your own!” and the next Steve is swallowing his words.

It’s rough, Steve was sure they hadn’t used enough lube but Tony kept urging him faster, to get on with it and that first slide inside was like a breath of a fresh air. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t often think of their time on Clint’s farm; his hand found its way into his pants, Tony’s name on his tongue more often than he could count. This time was like finding home, Tony’s heat engulfing him as he writhed, put himself safely in Steve’s hands in a way he never had before.

When he spills inside of him, swallowing Tony’s cries in a bruising kiss, Steve wonders if this is the last time.

*****

The next time is a mistake.

Clint has stormed off, leaving the two of them in the living room glaring at each other. There’s a chasm between them. Not figuratively; the hole Wanda had left in the floor was still there. Steve looks up, meaning to tell Tony that he was sorry things were so hard between them but he finds Tony inches away, dropping his legs over Steve’s lap.

It’s slower this time.

It’s more intimate this time. Even out in the open, even knowing there was no way the others hadn’t heard Tony’s moans, it’s too much for Steve to bear. He avoids Tony’s gaze; buries his face in Tony’s neck and pulls him down roughly onto his cock. He should try to keep things quieter, if not for secrecy than out of respect but every one of Tony’s cries is like his personal victory march.

*****  
Sometimes Steve couldn’t bring himself to let Tony touch him. Steve didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t earned Tony looking up at him with cautious affection, the way his hands shook as he traced Steve’s body and showered him with attention. On days like that, Steve laid him down and took care of him.

Took him into his mouth, slicked his fingers and brought him off over and over again until Tony was too worn out to do anything other than sleep. Tony knew. He always knew, his eyes accusing before they rolled back in his head and he came down Steve’s throat.

It was one of these nights when Steve crawled up behind him, wrapped Tony in his arms and sighed into his skin. He shivered, his voice rough, “I’m scared I’m beginning to need this.”

*****

Ross gets word of Steve’s team in the country and that ends talks between Tony and Steve for a while.

It frustrates him, though he knows he has no right to anger. But, he'd lost everything else, could he just keep this? He'd lost every home he'd ever had, could he just keep this?

Sam worries; he doesn't know the cause but he goes out of his way to find missions for them to work. Pulls Steve out of bed and puts running shoes on him. It helps a little; it's not enough.

Steve has a phone; he could call.

Tony has a phone; he could call.

Neither of them does and Steve’s not sure if that was because it would feel like losing or because Tony, like Steve, couldn’t handle hearing the other’s voice and not being able to touch.

*****  
Three months.

Three long months in which Steve knew his team was cross with him, knew he was more closed off than ever. Three painful months before Ross got word of a Hulk sighting in Norway and found a better use of his time.

It starts the same way it had before, with an argument.

And then Steve sought Tony out whenever he could get away with it. It wasn’t often enough for either of them but it was something. It was all he could give and Tony never asked for more.

It was better.

It was worse.

*****

It had been a long day.

Every day had been long since they started recruiting. Doors slammed in his face, names crossed off because they didn’t want to comply with the Accords, one name with an asterisk because they were currently in the stars and now they were down to the names that sounded receptive on the phone but wanted to meet on their own turf. Tony didn’t mind; he knew this would be hard when he started.

The water runs hot, just this side of scalding as it trails down Tony’s back. He sighs, closing his eyes as he palms the cool tile, losing himself in the warmth. The waters trails down his back and through his legs. He stands wider, just breathing.

A hand palms his stomach and pulls him back into a warm, damp chest. He sucks in a breath, his stomach tensing beneath the possessive palm. A kiss drops down on the back of his shoulder, the scratch of facial hair on his skin and a low voice in his ear, “Hard day?”

Tony huffs out a laugh, followed by a quick intake of surprise as a strong hand takes hold of his soft cock. “That a play on words because I gotta say, you can do better, Rogers.”

Steve smiles, pressing another soft kiss to Tony’s shoulder. “I’m running on little sleep, give me a break.” He noses behind Tony’s ear and takes up a slow rhythm. Tony groans, letting Steve take over. “How’s the search coming?”

“Two names look like good leads. One’s a flier but she doesn’t know it yet,” he murmurs, minding his breathing as Steve takes care of him.

“Oh, but you do?” Steve asks fondly. He shifts, his hips coming forward and brushing against Tony’s ass. He was hard but seemingly ignoring it, preferring to take care of Tony first. It was always like this now.

“I do,” Tony murmurs, shifting to rest the back of his head against Steve’s shoulder. The water slides over his neck and down his front. What a sight they must make with Steve wrapped around him, nearly too big for the shower stall.

The scratch of his beard along Tony’s damp skin as he murmurs, “And the other?”

“She’s beautiful,” Tony says, smiling at Steve’s playful nip to his shoulder. “She’s tremendous, Steve. With Bruce’s blessing, I’d like to ask her to join.” Steve noses into his cheek in question, “His cousin. Similar talents.”

Steve nods, grinding into the small of Tony’s lower back. “That’s good. I’m really happy for you, Tony.”

Tony frowns, hesitant, “How’ve you been?”

Steve’s free hand entwines with one of Tony’s. “The same. Laying low, helping when we can. Scott went home. Clint’s trying to figure out how to do the same.”

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be. I don’t tell you this for your sympathy.” Tony’s quiet and Steve sighs, dropping a soft kiss to his neck in apology. “Sorry. It’s just... it’s getting harder to get away.”

Tony squeezes his hand, his eyes opening briefly, “I could help you-“

“No, you can’t. You already do too much for us. You’re needed here.” His hand tightens around Tony’s, moving to hold them against Tony’s stomach. “This thing with Thanos is more important than me,” he murmurs, his beard scratching against Tony’s neck as he kisses the spot behind his ear. Tony’s breath catches, his stomach tightening with every stroke.

“How much time do you have?” he asks breathily, rocking with Steve, the blonde’s cock sliding between his cheeks. There were other things they could be doing; save water and move to the bed but things weren’t real here behind the curtain and beneath the hot, torrent of water. In here Tony could pretend like they weren’t risking everything for this brief respite. In here he was just Tony and Steve was just Steve.

Steve nips at his neck and follows with a soft groan, “Not long, I'm sorry. It’s a miracle I don’t come every night. I would’ve come sooner but Clint’s getting suspicious.” Steve’s hand works, a hum in response to every one of Tony’s little moans.

Warm rivulets of water run down the side of Tony's neck as Steve marks him. Tony bucks into his tight grip, long past pretending he didn't need this. “Good?” Steve asks, his hand tightening and Tony’s close, he can feel it. “Yeah, it’s good.” Steve takes his weight and strokes him ardently, his breath hot on Tony’s cheek. “I miss you,” he murmurs.

“You always miss me when your hands are on me,” Tony responds, finding it harder to breathe as his stomach tightens, blood pumping hard in his veins. The steady mantra in the back of his mind, Steve, Steve, Steve; only he made Tony feel this way.

“I know,” Steve says, his hand working faster. “But I miss you and I think about you every night. And not just like this,” a wicked twist of his wrist and Tony was gasping, spilling over Steve’s fist and down the drain.

“Steve,” he breathes, falling back against Steve’s warm chest as Steve works him through it, murmurs soft words into his ear. He feels safest here with Steve’s arms wrapped around him, his soft lips trailing over his ear.

 

Tony sits on the counter, watching Steve get dressed slowly. He’s moving as nimbly as ever, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he slides the kevlar top over his chest. Tony remembers worrying it wasn’t thick enough, “Still in the old suit?”

Steve nods, his hair falling over his eyes. His beard got longer every time Tony saw him. It looked good, Steve always had, but it worried Tony that he wasn’t taking care of himself the same way he used to.

“You know, I’ve been working on something-“

“Tony,” Steve says with a sigh. To Tony’s relief, it sounded fond. He pulls the rest of his suit on and shuffled over to Tony’s spot on the counter. His blue eyes were wide and kind, still a novelty for Tony. “You’ve gotta stop offering me things.”

“Why?” Tony asks blatantly and Steve shakes his head slowly.

“You should be angry with me.”

“I am,” Tony says. “Livid, actually. Sometimes I can barely stand to look at you.” Steve lowers his eyes and Tony pulls him closer, his hands on Steve’s waist. He stares up at him, holding his gaze firmly. “But we work better together.”

Steve’s brow furrows, his voice rough, “Maybe so but don’t you think Ross would ask questions if he caught me with a brand new suit?”

Tony shrugs, lowering his eyes as he tugs at Steve’s belt buckle. Steve slides a hand over Tony’s damp hair and cups the back of his head. “Tell him you stole it,” Tony murmurs and Steve starts to respond when he feels his pants loosen. “Tony-“

“You never let me,” he says, his breath warm on the head of Steve’s cock. He’s still hard, twitching in response to Tony’s warmth.

“I’m okay. You don’t have to do that.”

Tony’s eyes cut to Steve’s teasingly, “I’m really good at it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Steve shakes his head, “I’m sure you-“ he cuts off with a gasp as Tony slides the head into his mouth. His hips buck and he bites down on his lip to hold himself still. “I’m sure you are. Christ,” he moans, his hand tightening on the back of Tony’s head.

He doesn’t last long, the soft slide of Tony’s warm mouth bringing him off in a matter of minutes. Tony swallows diligently, his eyes falling closed as Steve scratches at his scalp. When he pulls off, Steve pulls him into a kiss, swallowing the slightly bitter flavor on Tony’s tongue.

He sits on the bed and watches Tony dress for a moment before he feels the familiar pull. “It’s time for me to...” he trails off and Tony nods, facing away as he pulls on his briefs.

“I know, you don’t have to-“ he began before cutting himself off. He takes a deep breath and then turns, his arms crossed over his chest. Steve used to think it was a sign of anger but he knows now it hides his scars. When Tony speaks, his voice is softer. “You don’t have to say it. Just... when’s the next time?”

“I don’t know,” he starts but then Tony’s grimacing and he rushes to finish. “I don’t know but it’ll be soon. As soon as I can.” He pulls Tony in and drops a kiss to his lips and then his forehead. “I promise.”

*****  
Steve doesn’t tell Tony but they were changing safe houses every few days now.

Norway had been a bust and Ross was back to searching them out again. Nothing Wanda did put him off their scent. Sharon had run out of places to send them and they were at the end of the line.

Steve doesn’t tell Tony; even as he cuts their time together shorter and shorter, not trusting himself not to fall asleep beside him. It was rare for him to feel safe enough to rest his eyes, these days. He had to stay awake and make sure his team got some rest. He could do without; he’d done so in the past.

So, he pretends everything is fine even as the walls start closing in. He kisses away Tony’s concerns and replaces them with desperate whine and hushed whispers of Steve’s name. It was dishonest but he didn’t want Tony to worry.

He doesn’t deserve it.

*****  
“Let me help you,” Tony says one night, panting into Steve’s mouth. Steve raised him higher on his lap, allowing him to sink down onto his cock slowly. Tony’s eyes fall closed for a moment before he forces them open, swiping his tongue over kiss bitten lips as he spoke. “Steve.”

“We’ve talked about this,” Steve says, stroking Tony’s back to temper his disappointment. How he’d never realized Tony’s steadfast loyalty to him, he’d never know but it pained him more than it ever warmed him. Tony was willing to do just about anything to keep him safe, always had been. Even now, after… what Steve had done. It overwhelmed him and he noses into Tony’s throat, his heart pounding.

Tony pulls him back, his fingers tugging lightly at Steve’s hair. “Look at me,” he murmurs. Steve begs him not to ask. He could never deny him anything.

But he complies; opens his eyes to see Tony’s wide brown eyes studying the lines of his face, the shadows beneath his eyes. “If I do nothing, it’s like I’m doing this to you.”

“If I let you help, you’ll end up right alongside me,” Steve answers, his eyes warm. Tony sees something in them that gives him pause. He takes hold of Steve’s face in his soft hands and slowly rises and falls. Steve holds Tony tight to him, reminding himself that Tony was safest here. His eyes fell closed, threatening to spill over as Steve allows himself this brief respite.

He can’t lose this.

*****

The next time, Steve arrives after Tony’s shower. He’s quiet, careful not to trip any alarms as he climbs into bed behind Tony and takes him into his arms. They didn’t do this often; too risky and some part of Tony wondered if Steve worried about listening devices in the corners. Tony wasn’t capable of that but... Steve would wonder if he was.

Steve holds him tight for a moment, breathing him in before his hands slide into Tony’s briefs. Tony sighs, his head falling back as Steve takes hold of his soft cock. He kissed the back of Tony’s neck, moving his shirt out of the way. Come to think of it, it was overlarge and Steve pulls back to study it.

His chest tightens, “This is mine.” He tugs at the collar and Tony nods.

“It’s comfortable.”

“It’s stolen,” Steve replies, punctuating with a kiss. Tony laughs, starting to turn to face Steve but he can’t have that. He holds Tony tighter, stroking his cock and talking himself into what came next. Finally, he coaches himself into reaching back for Tony’s bedside drawer. He pulls out a tube of lubricant.

He slicks his fingers and circles Tony’s rim carefully, listening to his breath quicken. Tony groans lowly as Steve works a finger inside, followed by another. He grinds his cock into Tony’s thigh as the tight heat engulfs him. It had been so long since they’d done this. Looking back, it’s painfully hard for him to remember why he’d been so against telling Tony he’d wanted this; that he’d _needed_ it. They’d wasted so much time and maybe if they hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

He pushes the thought away and concentrates on stretching Tony open for him. He pushes Tony’s thigh up higher so he can slide in deeper, sliding a third finger in alongside the others. Tony’s panting now, his face pressed against his pillows as Steve works. He was needy but he wouldn’t risk hurting Tony. He works in a fourth, Tony’s heat making his cock pulse in his pants.

Finally he removes his fingers and slicks his cock. He lines himself up and gets a grip on himself: he would not ruin this by getting too emotional. Tony didn’t deserve that or want it, for that matter. He tells himself that but the first breach of Tony’s entrance drags a soft whine from the back of his throat. Tony gasps, relaxing around him as he slid in deeper. The tight, sucking heat around his cock pulls him in and he holds fast to Tony’s chest. He stretches out along Tony’s back, pushing Tony’s thighs wider with his own as he slides in further.

Burying his nose behind Tony’s ear, he groans, “So good.” Tony shudders, holding Steve’s wrists as he bottoms out. Sparks go off behind his eyelids and Steve’s half wondering if he hadn’t already come before he pulls back and thrusts in slowly. Going as slow as he can manage, even as the need in the pit of his stomach begs him to go faster; begs him to put Tony on his stomach and drive in hard and fast; to really claim him.

It drives him to push the covers back, get Tony on his knees and snap his hips forward. Tony groans, reaching up to grasp the sheets as Steve holds him close and pounds into him. Everything comes out: the rage and frustration at the war and Tony’s stubborn expression looking at him across the tarmac in Germany. The aching tightness of his chest at seeing the pain on Tony’s face as he watched that video. The sick twisting of his stomach as he forced himself to go through the motions, to use every technique he had to get Tony down and get Bucky out of there. The heart-wrenching guilt that came after.

It gives him strength, it weakens him, it makes him grip Tony’s hips a little too hard, his breathing a little too rough, driving his hips a little too fast. His warmth seeps into Tony’s skin as he holds him tight and drives into him relentlessly. Tony groans, lowering his head as he grips the sheets and pushing back into Steve’s thrusts. He’s close, Steve can feel that in the way every thrust begins to draw soft cries from Tony’s throat.

He reaches down to take Tony’s cock but Tony shakes his head. “No, no, wanna feel it. Wanna come on your cock.”

Steve groans, admitting, “Not gonna last long.”

Tony pets his forearm and holds it there. Still stubborn and it brings a smile to Steve’s face as the corners of his eyes prick. He buries his face in Tony’s back, chasing his orgasm. He tries losing himself in the tight heat around his cock but he sees the future ahead of him. He can’t avoid it. Can’t stop it.

Can’t stop the way his chest hitches and his nails dig into Tony’s chest, shaking them both as he snaps his hips. Tony doesn’t notice, working his hips to meet Steve’s. They’re moving together, in sync the way they’d always been before. Tony knows his body better than he knows his own and Steve curls over his back and gets in deeper. It was easier to lose himself with Tony; to burrow inside of him and pretend.

Pretend as though he’d been smart enough to take this from the beginning. Pretend he hadn’t looked out across the room at Tony several times for two years and kept silent. Pretend he hadn’t looked at the clear signs of guilt and stress on Tony’s face and ignored them.

He buries himself inside Tony until Tony gasps, his hole tightening around Steve’s cock as he comes, pulling Steve along with him. His vision whites out, cheeks damp as he pumps his hips into Tony and fills him messily. His chest hitches with every breath, the pleasure offset by the pain in his chest. He works Tony through it, pushing past the over sensitivity to draw more of those needy groans from Tony’s throat.

He should stop, the sensation of Tony’s sucking heat around his spent cock quickly became too much. Instead, he pushes himself, tortures himself enveloping Tony in his arms and curling over him. _I can't lose this_. His eyes spill over, the warmth drawing Tony’s attention.

“Steve?” he asks concernedly and he hears Steve’s breathing grow quieter. “Steve?” He strokes Steve’s forearm and earns a gasping breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeats quietly, slowing his rhythm to a slow wave. A trickle of come trails down Tony’s perineum as he shifts in Steve's vice grip. This would leave no mark. It was only temporary. Steve's hips slow to a stop, his cock still snug and warm inside Tony’s body. He wants to stay here. He’d made a home here.

He needed this.

He'd lost everything else... could he just keep this? He'd lost every home he'd ever had, could he just keep this?

Tony’s voice is rough as says it out loud. It isn't a question; he knows it in the way Steve can't bear to let him go. Feels it in the desperate way Steve had spilled inside him. Hears it in the pleading way Steve whispered his name.

“This is the last time.”


End file.
